Flowers for Rin
by miss selah
Summary: Alone in the cemetery, she could have sworn she saw a ghost. [Sesshoumaru Kagome] [week 107 – flowers] [prompt 31 – flowers]


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Flowers for Rin

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The pitter-patter of raindrops on her umbrella worked like a lullaby, and her feet moved over the grasses knolls of the cemetery, her short cut home, in time with the slow, endless drone of it all.

The sound of it was enough to lull her to sleep, but the scent of it, the taste of the first spring rain, was something to be reckoned with. It caught, the taste of warm, wet asphalt, somewhere between her nose and her throat and lingered there, foreign but oh so familiar.

She had missed this in the past, this taste, this scent; even if the warm rain felt the same on her skin, the same misty water, it didn't have this. It never could.

A drop of rain, powered by the wind, tapped her on the nose and she sneezed lightly. What a day, what a day. . . she had barely managed to get away from Inuyasha that morning, insisting that she had an important test to take, and had been running so late that she had gone to school in her dirty, blood stained clothes. She had caused quite a speculation, and had ended up taking a page from her grandfather's book and claiming some outlandish, foax disease as the culprit. Her teachers, while not willing to call her out on the lie, had made her change in to a spare set of gym clothes and wash her own in the school's home ec laundry room.

She had been sitting there, blowing raspberries in her boredom, when the rain had started with a clap of thunder, a flash of light; a gasp from a girl lost in time and thought.

The same sort of gasp passed her lips again then, as a car drove by and she was half blinded by it's head lights. It hit a puddle in the dip of the road and passed, the driver unknowing, uncaring, of the girl that walked just off of the path. Her umbrella, a flimsy piece of plastic stretched thin over metal strips, couldn't protect her from it, and she was soaked clean to the bone with dirty water.

She wiped the rain from her eyes with the fore of her arm and gasped when she saw that she wasn't alone in the cemetary.

Kneeling before a grave she thought she saw a ghost, pale and white and sad. Sesshoumaru . . . she thought, before she realized how very impossible it was. There was no way that he could be here, when he was there. No. . . he was a demon, blessed with longevity, and of course he could be here. She transcended time. . . but he stood still in it.

He turned his head and cocked it, curiously, to the side. For a moment, he seemed as confused as she was, and she could almost hear their hearts beating to the same beat. His lips moved; he said what might have been her name, but the rain against her umbrella was too loud and she missed his words.

She closed her umbrella and took a step closer, but the rain caught between her lashes and the world blurred. The white blurred, shivered, and when she managed to blink the rain out of her eyes she was alone in the cemetery once again – alone with the rain.

Curious, she was sure she had seen some one, if not Sesshoumaru, lingering there for at least a moment. She walked up to the grave. Maybe the person who lay beneath the stone and dirt and rain could give her some clue as to whether or not she was simply imagining things, imagining that the two worlds that she had tried so hard to keep separate were becoming one.

Twin footprints marred the dewy grass and Kagome stepped inside of them, kneeling and taking his place. A wreath of flowers were crisp and fresh, shining with the sprinkle of the rain. They hung round the thin memorial stone, and fresh incense caught in her nose, the smoke blending with the rain to create something so magnificent and new that she faultered for a moment and bowed her head, clapping her hands together. They were well loved, this spirit, despite the ancient headstone, and she couldn't help but honor them as well.

She dug in her pocket for something to give as a gift, but all she had was a few crayons that she had taken from Shippo the day prior for being rude to Inuyasha. She placed them beneath the wreath of white flowers and blew at some dirt that had caught in the engravement on the stone so that she could make out what it said.

_Ato kusabana o za ame. _

_Rin._

A flower in the rain.

No one noticed the drop of her umbrella.

No one noticed her tears in the rain.


End file.
